Page 59 of For a Price

He’s righted a wrong from my past.

He’s done what no one else ever has for me.

Is it possible that someone out there can care for me like I always dreamed of? That I could be loved like so many people are?

Roman wraps the bath towel around me and then kisses the underside of my jaw. “Get changed into something comfortable, devochka. We’ll have dinner.”

And just like that, he walks out of the room.

Roman decides we’re being casual for the night—meaning, he requests his team of cooks prepare us an American classic.

Burgers and fries.

My eyes round as a bacon cheeseburger and freshly cut fries are delivered at the dinner table. He laughs.

“I figure we have had enough of my country’s food,” he says. “It is time we have some of yours.”

I swallow and hesitantly reach for my dinner napkin. “Do you even like American food?”

“It is good. Very filling. Not so healthy sometimes, but it tastes good.”

“We do like our fatty foods,” I laugh.

“I like fatty asses. So it’s good.”

“Like mine?”

His gaze sparks with the same intensity it had earlier during our shower. “Devochka, you know better than to ask a question like that.”

We dine on the burgers and fries and Roman tells me more about his penthouse. He’s only lived here for a few months since his father insisted he buy property in the heart of Northam for business operation purposes.

He tells me how he’s not used to such refined living quarters. Polina and several of his other staff members decorated the space.

“Where did you used to live?”

“In a smaller apartment,” he answers. “Far below my means financially. This is flashier.”

He goes on to say how he’ll take me up to the rooftop tonight once we’re finished with dinner. The view is amazing and he wants to show me the pool and jacuzzi.

“I can’t swim,” I admit with a small laugh.

“Maybe something else you can learn while here.”

“You were serious about the Russian?”

“Yes, devochka. If you are mine, you should know how to speak it. At least understand what you are hearing.”

I don’t completely disagree—though it’s only been a few days in Roman’s custody, I’ve been in several situations where Russian’s been spoken around me and I’ve had no clue what was being said. If I’m forced to be here long-term, it could come in handy to know a few words and phrases.

Roman clears his plate of every fry and crumb of his cheeseburger. I try my best to do the same with my plate but come up short. Hand on my belly, I let out a breath and shake my head side to side.

A handful of fries and a few bites of my burger remain.

“I can’t eat another bite. But it was delicious.”

“Edik is a good chef. He is in charge of the kitchen for a reason.”

We leave the dining room behind to get in the elevator and ride it up to the rooftop like Roman said we would. The doors part to a wide-open plum sky speckled with glimmering stars and a half moon shining down on us.

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